


The Raven's Champion

by rdupuy2



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, dungeons - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27499327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rdupuy2/pseuds/rdupuy2
Summary: The story begins with a typical party of adventurers hunting down a necromancer.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter I  
A large brown leaf crunched under Sylas’s boot.   
Damn it all.   
The forest around them seemed endless, every tree they passed looked the same and each one loomed over them as if to mock their pursuit. Galadriel moved across the forest floor gracefully, as was the norm for his kind.   
“Are you sure your information was correct?” Galadriel’s pointed ears twitched when he asked the question. Sylas had traveled with Galadriel long enough to know his tells. He was getting frustrated. Sylas didn’t blame him though, they’ve been sweeping the forest for days now and have yet to find sign of the necromancer’s whereabouts aside from the occasional shambling corpse.   
“Trust me, Alastor is…” He thought for a moment, trying to find the right word, “eccentric. But he is the most talented wizard I’ve met.” Galadriel grunted, he reached back and drew an arrow from his quiver and rested it on his bowstring. Sylas came to a sudden stop and looked around, his eyes darting from tree to tree as he scanned the forest around them. “We’ll make camp here, the sun will be resting soon and so should we.” Galadriel nodded, and reached a hand to the ivory whistle hanging about his neck. Drawing it to his lips, the elf’s cheeks puffed out as he blew into it. No sound came, though he knew his companions would hear it. The whistle was enchanted to serve as a signal for their companions, one that wouldn’t alert the enemy. One of Alastor’s gifts.   
They had split into groups of two in order to cover more ground, Sylas and Galadriel were partnered together because Ves and Daphne wanted some ‘girl talk’ they called it. Sylas moved over to one of the large oaks and leaned against it, his eyes still scanning the forest as he waited for his companions. A few minutes pass by before a woman with pink skin and large ram-like horns curling on either side of her face stepped out of the shadows. She wore a blue blouse embroidered with golden roses along the seams, as well as tight black leather pants that left little to the imagination. A rapier hung at her side and a lute was hanging by a leather strap from her back. “Hey boys!” she said playfully, giving a finger-wiggling wave and winking to the two. Daphne walked over to a fallen log and kicked it a couple times to make sure it wouldn’t crumble away from rot. Satisfied, she sat and set down her pack.  
A couple moments later and a striking woman with long dusky black hair emerged. Dressed in much more modest attire than Daphne, Ves was wearing a loose free-flowing blue robe that stopped just after the knees to allow movement through the thick forest. Though beautiful, her humble form would suggest that she was little more than arm candy for some noble lord to inflate his own ego at parties. Her electric blue reptile-like eyes are the only things that betray a level of power to her. She walked forward confidently and sat next to Daphne.   
“Thank you for joining us, Vesperanza.” Sylas said with a playful grin on his face. A crackle of electricity arced across Ves’s fingertips.  
“I told you not to call me that…” She said through gritted teeth, though she knew Sylas was only jesting so she let out a breath and calmed down. Ves removed a small crystal bead from a satchel hanging from her belt.   
“Oooh! Watchout Sylas! She means business!” Daphne said, giggling. Sylas removed his belt, setting it down on a nearby root as he leaned his sword against the tree. He started removing his chain mail so he could sleep comfortably.   
“Galadriel still hasn’t found any tracks leading to the bastard’s lair.” Sylas reached up to his head with both of his hands as he grasped his helmet on either side, lifting it from its place upon his shoulders and setting it aside his sword. His raven black hair spilled out from underneath the helmet, falling over his face. Removing a gauntlet from his right hand he brushed his hair back and behind his short but pointed ears that revealed his half-elven nature.   
“Galadriel’s senses are unmatched,” Ves said as she sprinkled a strange powder in a circle around their camp, still holding the bead in one hand. “I’m surprised anything got past him. We didn’t find anything either, gods damn it all.”   
“Yes, he has taken great care to conceal his presence in these woods. He must be using some form of enchantment to remove any tracks.” Galadriel stated, not dropping his aloof expression.   
“Mumovias dazi, ehoche. Mumovias dazi, ehoche. Mumovias dazi, ehoche.” Ves chanted as she sat in the middle of the circle she made, holding the bead in the center. Sylas removed the last piece of his armor and leaned over to grab a necklace, an amethyst embedded into a raven’s skull with three feathers upon a black leather lace. He lifted it over his head and draped it around his neck, it must’ve fallen off when he was removing his armor. He grasped the skull, saying a silent prayer apologetically. The necklace was a symbol of his oath to the Raven Queen. Once settling into his casual-wear, Sylas slipped a signet ring bearing his family crest onto his finger. As soon as he was finished settling in, a blue light emerged from the bead in Ves’s hand. It rose a good ten feet into the air before spilling out around them, surrounding them in a magical dome of force. Inside the dome, the cold night air that was once nipping at them turned warm. The contents of the dome were illuminated in a pale blue light. Ves used this spell to secure a comfortable and safe nights rest for the group just about every night, and had full control over the state of the interior. Ves maintained full control of the conditions inside the dome, as she was able to set it to any temperature or lighting she wished. She could even control the color of the dome, though she preferred blue. Sylas, Ves, Daphne, and Galadriel could all see through the walls of the dome, as they cast a translucent blue hue over anything they gazed at. However the walls were completely opaque from the outside.  
Galadriel sat on a comfortable patch of grass with his legs crossed and closed his eyes, meditating. The Tel-Quessir required no sleep, a trait that Sylas unfortunately did not inherit. Daphne began shamelessly undressing to her underwear, something the group still hasn’t gotten used to as they all awkwardly try to avoid her gaze. They were convinced that the bard didn’t have a modest bone in her body.   
CRUNCH!  
The sound of a heavy foot falling on a dried up autumn leaf broke the silence. They all froze, staying completely still as their eyes glanced about them, peering from inside the dome. Nothing. Galadriel opened a single eye, interrupting his reverie to see what could be lurking beyond.   
CRUNCH!  
Again.  
CRUNCH!  
More now, as the sound drew closer and the sound of many shuffling footsteps across the forest floor approached the group. The first of the approaching group revealed themself, a large pale overweight man shuffled out of the trees. One arm was missing and he walked with a limp as his left leg was bent backward at the shin where his leg was snapped, but the man- no, creature continued to walk on it regardless. The foul stench that could only be formed by rotting carrion, and lots of it, filled the air.


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s showtime!” Daphne let out in a sing-songy voice, she and the others sprung up from  
their positions to face the threat. More shambling corpses lumbered out of the darkness, beating  
their rotted fists against the walls of the dome. Sylas reached for his belt, drawing his sword from  
its scabbard. Galadriel sprang to his feet, grabbed his bow, and nocked an arrow in one swift  
motion with all the grace of a proper Tel-Quessir. Ves’s fingers arced with electricity as she  
prepared to face the oncoming threat.  
“The dome will hold them off until the morning, but the undead require no rest.” Ves  
said, her electric blue reptilian eyes that marked her draconic heritage darted from zombie to  
zombie. “We will have to fight them eventually.”  
“Well in that case…” Sylas reached for his armor and began strapping it back on, “plenty  
of time to gear up.”  
“They’ve surrounded the dome, we’re going to need an opening to get through” Galadriel  
pointed out bluntly.  
“I can take care of that, don’t you worry” Daphne said in a playful tone, with a wink  
toward Galadriel. Galadriel’s face flushed pink, a strange look on an elf. Still, he maintained his  
solemn disposition, one Daphne often tried to break. A giggle escaped from Daphne’s lips. She  
backed up against one wall of the dome and looked to Sylas for the signal. He gave her a nod as  
he strapped on the last piece of his armor. With that, Daphne ran from that side of the dome to  
the other, lute in hand. She dropped down and came to a slide right as her body passed through  
the arcane barrier, sliding between the legs of one of the bigger zombies. One strum of her lute,  
and a booming thunderous wave echoed from her in an explosion of force, sending a group of  
zombies flying back ten feet. With the hole in their ranks, the rest of the group rushed out of the  
dome one after the other. As soon as Ves stepped out, the dome flickered out of existence.  
Galadriel let forth two arrows, each one finding their mark between the eyes of zombies.  
“The necromancer must have learned of our position! If he’s controlling a group this size,  
he musn’t be far.” He reached back, whipping another arrow from his quiver.  
“Good. That makes our job easier!” Ves opened her mouth and a stream of lightning  
cracked out of it, two of the undead burst like balloons and one of them dropped to the ground, a  
charred smoking corpse.  
Sylas lifted his hood over his head, his raven black cloak flapped in the wind as he  
muttered a quick spell and disappeared in a cloud of mist. Galadriel’s face was sprayed with  
blood as a blade emerged from the throat of one of the abominations with Sylas standing over the  
corpse. He stepped again, and again he turned into a cloud of mist that rushed forward to one of  
the monsters.  
More came.  
Ves quickly interposed herself between Daphne and a skeleton that emerged from the  
wood, completely devoid of flesh. Two red glowing orbs in its eye sockets shone through the  
dark of the night. The monster swung an axe down at her, and in a fluid motion Ves made a sign  
with one hand and muttered the arcane word for shield. When the skeleton’s axe swung down it  
met an invisible arcane barrier.  
“They don’t stop coming!” Ves said, as she pulled a crystal rod from her robe. The rest of  
the group knew exactly what spell it was a component for and quickly dashed out of the way.  
Ves’s eyes lit up and she smiled like a mad woman as the rod illuminated the area in a  
blue-white glow. A large beam of lightning bolted forward, tearing through the corpses and  
striking a nearby tree, leaving it in flames.  
“Watch where you’re pointing that thing!” Sylas’s hair was singed, he was a mere step  
away from being struck. Two remained. Daphne muttered something in infernal and the two  
corpses erupted in flames, they stumbled forward a few more steps before crumbling to the  
ground. All that stood before them now were piles of corpses. “Fan out, he must be here  
somewhere.”  
The group spread out, searching the area of the attack.  
“Here!” Galadriel’s voice rang out in the silence. Sylas and the rest of the group  
descended onto his position to see the elf kneeling over a bush, inspecting a piece of black fabric  
hanging from one of the briars. “Must’ve caught his robe, footprints lead north of here. They are  
straight with clear intention, not like the mindless dead he controls. This has to be him.” Finally,  
something to go on.  
Galadriel led the way, following the tracks for several hours. They were tired, but time  
wasted meant more time the necromancer had to get away. Sylas was sure the bastard would be  
waiting for them behind every twist and bend. He kept his hand on the hilt of his blade, ready to  
draw it at a moment’s notice. Sylas quickened his step, keeping pace with Galadriel and leaving  
the girls behind them.  
“Why does he want to catch this guy so bad? I get wanting the bounty money. Seems  
kinda personal though dontcha think?” Daphne looked to Ves with a concerned look on her face.  
“Sylas has more reason than most to hate the unliving” Ves kept her voice low, she  
wasn’t sure if he could hear her but he seemed too focused to notice. “His family owned an  
estate out in the country, outside the walls of Waterdeep.” Ves put a hand on her stomach,  
noticing the ache she remembered that the group was interrupted before they could eat dinner.  
She pulled a piece of dry meat from her bag and began munching on it. “Guards and hired  
mercenaries can only do so much against creatures of the night” The group paused to step over a  
fallen tree in the path, Galadriel grabbed another piece of black cloth that had been ripped on one  
of the broken branches. “From what he told me, a man showed up at their estate one night  
covered in dirt and blood. He fell over on their doorstep so they took in the injured man to see  
what aid they could offer. A physician lived on the grounds so Sylas’s father sent a servant to  
wake her. When she arrived and inspected the man, there weren’t any wounds to be found. In a  
blink of the eye, the ‘injured’ man was already bearing down on her. The vampire ate its way  
through most of the servants and guards. It killed his parents first, they were in the room with the  
beast when it awoke.”  
“Hold.” Galadriel held up a hand, a gesture to get the group to stop moving. They stood  
at the edge of a large empty clearing in the forest, but something felt off. Galadriel took his bow  
and outstretched his arm, taking one step after another as if poking the air. Nothing happened for  
a while, but the entire clearing had an eerie calm to it. Galadriel stepped forward again and a  
strange translucent shimmering wall rippled in front of them, like water disturbed by a pebble  
being thrown into it. Galadriel looked back at the party before stepping through it. Sylas  
followed, then Daphne and Veth.  
Before them stood a large, poorly kept manor. A garden on the right side of the house  
was filled with dead plantlife. The windows were green and brown, covered in dirt and algae.  
The roof had a hole in it, there was no indication of the cause. The house had two stories. Four  
windows faced the group on this side of it, two on the bottom floor and two on the top.  
“Lets go knock and see whose home!” Daphne said mockingly, skipping ahead. Suddenly  
a mangled body fell from the left window on the second story like a shadow crashing to the  
ground in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

The group paused for a moment before walking forward and inspecting the corpse. It was a woman, probably in her 40s. Her hair was matted with blood and dirt, her skin was pale and bloated with a green hue. Completely naked, something strange was carved into her chest with a knife. It looked like some dark arcane sigil, looking at it gave Sylas the chills. The sigil then pulsated with a dark purple glow.  
“Get back!” Sylas yelled to the rest of the group, but Ves was too slow. Sylas quickly grabbed her and slammed her into the ground, shielding her body with his. With a stomach-turning squelching sound, the body burst like a pimple. Blood and bile went in every direction.   
“Thanks for the warning Sylas! Almost ruined my new clothes” Daphne’s forked tongue peeked out from between her lips at Sylas.  
“Ves, are you okay?” Sylas said, ignoring Daphne’s comment.  
“Y-yes I’m fin-”  
“EEEEW!” Daphne’s scream interrupted as she backed away from Sylas. Galadriel stepped forward.  
“Maggots…” He said, and sure enough there were many tiny worms squirming around the ground and on Slyas’s cloak. He ripped the cloak off and shook them onto the ground with a disgusted look on his face.  
“I don’t know what that bastard was trying to accomplish. We’ve all seen our fair share of blood, won’t scare us away” Sylas commented, shoving the blood-soaked cloak into his bag and scratching at his forearm. “Come on, the longer this… stain of humanity is alive, the longer the dead go without rest in this place.”  
Sylas stepped onto the porch stairs, his metal boots clopping against the wood as he made his way to the door of the manor. Resting his gauntleted hand upon the door, he pushed it open. The old rotted wood croaked as the door creeped open. Inside was dark, but it mattered not. While Sylas did not inherit the elves’ ability to see in dark places, Sylas’s connection to the shadowfell, the plane of his goddess, gave him extraordinary vision in the dark. Before them was a long hallway with several doors. An old moth-bitten carpet stretched before them across the hallway. Paint was peeling from the once grand walls as they stepped into the hallway. A spiral staircase in disrepair stood across from them.   
Sylas held a finger up to his lips before stepping to a door on his left and opening it a crack to peer inside. Just a sitting room, nothing out of the ordinary. Moving across the hall to the door on his right he did the same, a dining room with plates set on the long table. The plates were full of old rotted food with flies buzzing about them. Though disgusting, there was no sign of the undead or the necromancer.  
Sylas scratched at his forearm again, moving aside the cloth that protected his arm from the leather of his bracer.  
Galadriel nocked an arrow and kept his eyes trained straight ahead, ready to let it fly forward should the need arise. Daphne, for once, was quiet. Though she was whimsical and eccentric like most bards, she knew how to take things seriously when push came to shove. Ves kept a hand in her component pouch, ready to blast off a spell at any sign of trouble.   
They made their way to the last door in the hallway and pushed it open, inside of it was a staircase that led downward into a basement with cobblestone walls. “We’ll come back to this later,” whispered sylas with a finger pointed upward, “don’t want anything flaking us while we’re down there.” He closed the door as quietly as he could before leading the group up the stairway at the end of the hall. Halfway up the staircase, there was a loud crack and creaking of wood as his boot pierced one of the steps and it collapsed in on itself. Galadriel caught Sylas by the shoulders and hoisted him up.  
The group continued upward, and on the top story of the building there were two doors. Entering the first one, there was a fully-furnished bedroom that stood out from the rest of the house. The curtains looked fresh, tiny green flames flickered on a candelabra that illuminated the room in a sickly green glow. The bed was made, but it looked like it had seen some use recently. If not for the corpse hanging from the ceiling on a meat hook, it would be quite the inviting scene. The body dripped blood onto the ground, it was fresh. Next to it was a desk, presumably for the necromancer’s studies.  
Sylas broke from the group and headed for the corpse, he removed it from the large hook that pierced its body and placed it on the ground. Grabbing a vial from his belt, he uncorked it and splashed what looked like water onto its face. Holy water had a tendency of burning the living dead. Thankfully, however, this poor soul was dead as a doornail. Sylas muttered a prayer to the Raven Queen and, with two fingers, closed the dead man’s eyes.  
“Come, no time to waste.” Sylas said, scratching at his forearm again.   
“Let me see that.” Galadriel said, sighing as he forcibly grasped Sylas’s arm and pushed back the cloth. There was a tiny hole in his skin, couldn’t have been larger than three millimeters. “Oh gods damn it all!” Galadriel quickly pulled out his sword, not something he used often but he had one in case he lost his bow. “Ves! Come here!”  
“What’s the matter?” Ves stepped forward looking concerned.  
“In need you to cauterize his arm, he’s been infected.”  
“Infected? With what?” Ves stepped back two paces, thinking Galadriel had lost it.  
“Those maggots, they were rot grubs. They usually eat their way through corpses, rotted meat, or dung, but they’ll burrow into any living thing. Normally you can burn it out but it’s been too long, we have to cut off his arm before it reaches his heart. Quickly now!” Galadriel began to tie a tourniquet onto sylas from his medkit.   
“You have to what?” Sylas exclaimed, fear in his eyes.  
“Do you want to end up like that woman that fell out the window?” Galadriel scolded.  
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit rash?” Said Daphne, also clearly scared.   
“Do it.” Sylas’s fearful expression turned to one of determination as he looked to Ves and Galadriel. He took off his bracer from the arm that was about to be amputated and cut off a piece of leather, putting it between his teeth.   
Galadriel dragged over a night stand and put the arm on it, Ves readied herself as her hands glowed white hot. Galadriel’s blade whistled through the air as the blade sliced halfway through Sylas’s arm, not quite cutting through the bone. A muffled scream forced its way through Sylas. The tourniquet stopped most of the blood from squirting out, but the nightstand was still painted red from his arm nonetheless. Sylas heard the whistling again, as the blade rushed past his ear and down onto his arm. This time, it came off and a jet of white-hot flames spewed forth from Ves’s hands.   
“Sylas!” Daphne screamed, but it was too late. Sylas drifted off into unconsciousness.  
Sylas came to a couple hours later to Galadriel pouring a healing potion down his throat. The sweet red liquid coated his throat and warmed his body, he could feel it restoring his vitality, though it would not restore his arm. Galadriel clasped a hand on Sylas’s shoulder.  
“Looks like you’re still with us, Cha’Tel’Quessir.” A relieved smile stretched across Galadriel’s face.  
Sylas looked down and Ves’s face was buried in his chest, she had fallen asleep. Daphne was sitting right behind Ves, clung to her like a little sister. He turned his head and peered out the window, he could see the forest surrounding them that the group had spent days searching through to find the worm of a human being that had been raising the dead from their graves. A light mist rested on the forest, as was the usual in these lands.   
“We should get going, we lost too much time.” Sylas gave Ves’s hand a squeeze with his right hand, the only one he had left. Waking, she sat up and wiped a bit of drool from her chin. Galadriel outstretched a hand, Sylas grasped it as Galadriel pulled him to his feet.  
“You can’t fight in this state.” Said Ves, trying to contain her composure.  
“Willing to bet on that?” He said, smirking. Galadriel let out a chuckle.  
“He’s not made of glass, Ves! I’ve seen this man cut down beasts twice his size, a little bug wont stop him.” Galadriel said smirking.  
“Fine. But if you die I’m going to kill you!” Said Ves, part joking, part threatening.  
Sylas drew his blade from his scabbard, “lets go get the son of a bitch.”  
Making their way back downstairs, the group opened the door where the stairway to the basement lied. Leading the way, Sylas held his sword with one hand. He knew he would have to be more careful if a fight broke out. Normally, Sylas would employ magic to aid his martial prowess. However, now he has one hand to hold a sword and no hand to cast with. He would have to rely on his own strength.  
As the group moved down the stairway, the wooden steps turned to stone and they continued onward for quite some time. A basement would only be a few feet below the ground floor of the house, the group began to realize they might be walking into something much more sinister. Candles adorned the walls on either side of the group, and as they approached each one would magically ignite in a sickly green flame.   
Sylas stopped and wrinkled his nose.  
“What’s wrong? Said Daphne, confused. She sniffed the air a few times to see what Sylas was smelling, but there was nothing.”  
“Something dark and powerful lies beneath this place.” Said Sylas, staring forward.  
“Ah yes, I forgot. Those who have sworn an oath of paladinhood are granted the ability to detect the presence of evil creatures. To you, Daphne, there is nothing. But to Sylas… it feels like a noxious odor is pervading his nostrils.”  
Sylas nodded and moved forward. “Something powerful and unliving is down there, stay on your toes.”  
The group continued until the stairway stopped and the stone floor flattened beneath them. Before them stretched a large chamber with a deep, dark pit in the middle. Torch sconces adorned the walls, lit with the same green flames as before. Mangled and bloodied corpses formed a ring around the pit and a man shadowed in a dark hood stood before it, his back turned to the group.  
“You’ve made it…”  
The voice sounded human, with a Borcan accent. The man turned around and removed his hood. He had a very plain looking face with a scar that crossed his lips diagonally and stretched to his chin. He had a strange smile on his face as he looked to the group, his eyes darting from Sylas’s arm to his face.  
“I see tu got my message, Domn.” The man had a wicked grin on his face.  
Confused, Sylas looked to the man, “I thought your kind hated magic, and yet you stand before me using the darkest of its kind!”  
“The vraja is… a necessary evil. I don’t think the Count would mind. Tu cannot fault me for getting rid of a few outlanders. Especially the demon and the fey!” He said, with clear distaste toward Daphne and Galadriel. “Besides, what is the garda going to do to us? Weapons alone will not save them!”  
“Against ‘us?’ Who else are you working with?” Ves said, lightning crackling around her fingertips.   
Sylas’s eyes turned toward the pit. “What are you working with?” Sylas had a dark inkling about what was happening here. “What sort of deal did you strike?”   
“Calm yourself, Domna,” the man told Ves before turning to Sylas. “Tu peak my interest outlander, you speak as if tu have experience.” Sylas did have experience in such matters, his devotion to the Raven Queen is not the typical relationship between goddess and servitor. The man held up a hand. “It matters not, the sleeping one shall awake from its cradle and banish the outlanders from Vallaki. Caliban and outlander blood will mix and paint the streets red for the Count!” With that, the man hurled himself into the pit.   
For a moment, all was silent and they briefly thought that the insane necromancer just did their job for them. That thought was broken by the walls and floor around them beginning to quake. A dark red viscous liquid resembling congealed blood rose from the pit, bubbling and boiling. Sylas gripped his blade tighter, unsure of what the man had done.  
Slowly, something began to rise from the pit as the dark red liquid stirred and dripped off of its form. It was a strange creature resembling an unborn baby. However, the creature was at least fifteen feet tall. Pale skin was stretched over its eye-sockets. It had pale grey skin and a long tongue rolled out of its open maw that was lined with razor-sharp teeth. Its bones poked out of its rotted flesh. Its limbs looked as if they were never fully formed. An umbilical cord was still hanging from the monster’s torso. The very air around the monster was disturbed by its presence, as if its evil energies were altering the space immediately around the creature.  
With that, Ves let out a burst of lightning as a blue-white glow illuminated the walls and roof. The lightning struck the monster, not doing much in the way of harming it. With that, it let out a ghostly wail. It sounded like the first cries of a newborn baby, but perverted and twisted. The group fell to their knees and covered their ears with their hands. Sylas felt like the scream had ripped a portion of his life force from his body. Galadriel rose and three arrows soared from his bow, sinking into the rotted flesh of the creature.   
“Get up!” He yelled, knowing the group would be at a disadvantage if they were knocked off of their feet.  
Daphne struck a chord with her lute, using the magic of creation to bolster the group. They became reinvigorated as the magic restored them, Sylas got up and ran in front of the group, ready to take on the creature if it approached them. Sure enough, this floating undead titan drifted toward the group. Suddenly, in one quick motion the monster displayed a deftness that its appearance would not have suggested. It swiped its mostly bedraggled hand at Sylas, the hand did not pierce his armor, but he could feel his flesh rotting away where it made impact. In turn, Sylas muttered a spell and instantly teleported behind the monster in a cloud of mist. Thankfully that spell didn’t require his hands. He swung his blade down at the creature, channeling the power the Raven Queen granted him as his blade glowed with white radiance. The blade burned through the flesh of the monster like a hot knife through butter. It tried to move toward the rest of the group but Ves held up her hands and began channeling another spell. Her eyes glowed a deep blue before shackles of what looked like solidified electricity wrapped around the monster, holding it in place.  
“I won’t be able to hold it long! Destroy it, quick!” She said, sweat trickled down her face as he held her outstretched hands toward the monster, continuing to channel the spell. Daphne continued to play her lute, channeling the magic of creation that all true bards controlled to bolster the party. Galadriel sank two more arrows into the head of the monster, but it still thrashed around.   
“I’ve nearly exhausted my magical reserves today!” Said Sylas, worried. He had used too much magic today, and didn’t have much left. With his left hand gone, he had to resolve to using spells that only required words or simply channeling his magic into his weapon to give it some extra kick. Before he could think, the creature let out another wail and he dropped his sword. The monster broke the shackles and in another quick movement moved between Sylas and the group, blocking him off from them. It hit Sylas again with one hand, the dark energies tore away at his flesh.   
Sylas gritted his teeth through the pain and stumbled after his sword. He grasped its hilt just as the monster advanced toward Ves. Galadriel kept pelting the monster with arrows, none of which seemed to be doing much to dissuade it. Sylas closed his eyes and his blade began to glow in white radiance once more. Brighter than before, it illuminated the walls of the large chamber. The blade erupted in blue flames as Sylas charged forward. One hit, that’s all he needed. If he can put all of what was left of his reserves into this one attack, it might drop the monster. The creature lifted up another withered hand, ready to strike Ves down. However, before he could Sylas ducked and rolled underneath the creature’s levitating form and plunged his sword into its underside. A red glow could be seen coming from the monster as the glow of the blade shone through its rotted flesh. It let out a blood-curdling wail before it dropped to the ground, finally dead.  
The group ran over and collectively pushed the monster off of Sylas with all their strength. He laid there, breathing heavily but still alive. Galadriel let out a relieved laugh.  
“What in the nine hells was that?” He said, slumping down next to Sylas.  
“I thought I was done for,” said Ves, sitting down, still shaking. Daphne moved to sit next to her, putting an arm around her and resting her head on Ves’s shoulder.  
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Sylas muttered, looking up at the ceiling just glad to still be alive.  
“I hate this place!” Daphne exclaimed, her eyes began to mist up as Ves ran her hands through Daphne’s hair.  
“Don’t worry, we’ll get home one way or another,” Ves continued to comfort Daphne. Sylas stood up and walked over to the pit, standing over it and peering into the darkness below.  
“Don’t worry. I’ll get us out of here. I’ll get us away from Barovia.”


End file.
